The Perils of Playing Hero
by Lady Arreya
Summary: Captain Proton's most dangerous adventure yet! Coda to "Timeless." P/T.


Originally written June 1999

Title: The Perils of Playing Hero

Rating: M

Summary: Captain Proton's most dangerous adventure yet! Coda to "Timeless." P/T.

A/N: Thanks to Julie for beta reading...

... and to Bob Picardo for providing most of the inspiration. ;) (For a more detailed explanation, see below or a Grand Slam 1999 convention report.)

* * *

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency..." the Doctor began as he materialized in Holodeck One. He trailed off and did a double-take at the sight before him.

He instantly recognized the setting as Tom's Captain Proton holoprogram, as everything was in monochrome except for him. However, he hadn't been expecting to see Buster Kincaid, aka Harry Kim, rolling on the floor laughing hysterically. This was supposed to be a medical emergency, after all.

"What happened?"

"The holodeck safeties malfunctioned," Harry managed to say before succumbing to another fit of laughter. "Captain Proton's most dangerous adventure yet!"

The Doctor turned to his patient, the illustrious Captain Proton. At the moment, he didn't look like much of a hero. His face was flushed with pain and embarrassment, and he was cursing under his breath.

Perplexed, the Doctor still didn't understand. Until Captain Proton slowly turned around.

The seat of his pants was... missing. All that remained was charred, scorched fabric, the tattered threads revealing raw, red flesh.

Nearby rested Captain Proton's rocket jet-pack. It didn't take a genius to figure out how this had happened.

Harry had been able to douse the flames with the spaceship's fire extinguisher, but not before the blaze had burned through the fabric... and Tom's rear end along with it.

Tom was shaking his head. "I thought these pants were fire-retardant," he muttered.

The Doctor started snickering. It was no secret that he had little regard for the Captain Proton holoprogram. As he healed Tom's injury with a dermal regenerator, he launched into a lengthy lecture on the dangers and unpredictability of primitive 20th century technology.

All the while, Harry was chortling. He was still amused that he'd had to save Captain Proton from a fire, of all things. A fire caused by his own rocket jet-pack. "I never thought I'd get to rescue you," he joked. "Usually it's Captain Proton who rescues Buster Kincaid."

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Tom good-naturedly. "Rub it in my face, why don't you."

"How unfortunate that I didn't bring my holoimager," the Doctor couldn't resist saying with a smirk. "This would have made for an excellent addition to my next photo-essay."

At Tom's horrified expression, Harry burst out laughing all over again. "That would certainly attract an audience," he agreed.

The Doctor had a penchant for displaying embarrassing moments during his public presentations of his photo-essays, and he especially enjoyed poking fun at Tom.

"I could start charging admission," he mused. "Or make a few replicator rations by auctioning off the pictures to the highest bidder!"

By now, Harry was laughing so hard that he could barely breathe.

Tom could only shake his head, wondering what he had done to deserve this kind of humiliation. All he had wanted to do was have some fun on the holodeck.

He had even convinced Harry to join him in the Captain Proton holoprogram – no easy task considering that Harry was still preoccupied with the recent failure of the quantum slipstream drive. All the crewmembers had been disappointed, but Harry was taking it especially hard. He blamed himself for failing to calculate the correct calibrations.

They had all had such high hopes when Voyager's quantum slipstream drive had gone on-line, but now it seemed that they were destined to remain in the Delta Quadrant for a while longer. The benomite crystals that had powered the slipstream drive had decayed beyond usefulness. Since then, Harry had become increasingly pensive and distant. The knowledge that he – or rather, some future version of himself – had saved Voyager from complete destruction by throwing them out of slipstream drive hadn't seemed to console him much. Disheartened by it all, he had withdrawn considerably.

So it was good to see him laughing again. At least something good had come of their holodeck excursion, Tom thought ruefully. He was glad that he had managed to divert Harry from his troubled thoughts; he just wished that it could have been a little less embarrassing and undignified for himself...

* * *

"Tom?" B'Elanna knocked at his door again. She knew he was in there. He just wasn't answering the door.

With a sigh, she entered in the access code and went in. She didn't see him in the main room, so he had to be in the bedroom. Sure enough, there he was, lying on the bed on his stomach.

"Tom, it's me."

"Go away," was his muffled reply.

"Are you okay? The Doctor told me what happened on the holodeck..." She had to fight back rising giggles at the memory.

Tom made a disgruntled sound. "He's been telling everybody. The whole ship knows by now."

That was probably true, she had to admit. The Doctor delighted in gossip, and such stories typically spread like wildfire on a ship as small as Voyager.

Tom looked a little dejected, she noted with some surprise. Usually he was able to laugh at himself with ease. He wasn't the type to sit around and sulk or feel sorry for himself when anything embarrassing happened to him. She hadn't expected to see him taking it so seriously. But perhaps this incident was too personal and sensitive for him to dismiss lightly.

As it was, he had already received enough flack for the Captain Proton holoprogram. Most of the crew couldn't appreciate or understand it.

Including her. But she tried her best, because she knew how much it meant to Tom. If it was important to him, then it was important to her.

She was determined to cheer him up. To heal his battered ego... and anything else that might need healing.

"Want to have dinner with me? We still have time to head over to the Mess Hall."

"You go ahead. I don't really feel like going anywhere." Certainly not when all he would hear were jokes at his expense. "Besides, it hurts to sit down," he said piteously.

She studied him for a moment. He was obviously feeling sorry for himself, but she would just have to take his mind off of the matter, she decided.

B'Elanna sat down on the bed beside him. "I'm sorry," she said sympathetically. "Does it hurt now?"

He didn't say anything. She suspected that it was mostly his pride that was wounded more than anything else, but she wanted to find out for herself.

Before he knew what was happening, she had tugged off his shorts and briefs.

"B'Elanna!" he protested.

"Doesn't look too bad," she told him. _Not bad at all,_ she thought approvingly to herself, admiring his gorgeous naked backside.

She gently ran her fingers over the recently healed skin as Tom squirmed.

"Look at it this way: at least the Doctor didn't take any pictures. You know how shutter-happy he is."

"Haha, very funny. He threatened to do just that, you know."

"Well, good thing he didn't. Otherwise I'd have to scramble his program," she told him with a mock growl.

Tom couldn't help but smile at that, knowing that B'Elanna was rather proprietary and considered his butt her own personal property. Burnt or otherwise. As far as she was concerned, she was the only one entitled and privileged to have this view of it, and she clearly meant to keep it that way.

All joking aside, her approach made him feel a little better. She took him seriously. She knew how much the Captain Proton holoprogram meant to him, though he refused to admit it. He pretended that there was nothing particularly special about the program, but she knew otherwise. In actuality, he had always longed to be a hero, respected and looked up to, so this was more than merely indulging in boyhood fantasy. It mattered to him, so she was determined to treat him like a hero injured in the line of duty... no matter how comical and outdated that might seem to her.

After replicating some ointment, she proceeded to administer it to the smooth, fair skin of his well-formed posterior.

He relaxed under her touch, a little confused but not minding this kind of treatment. The ointment was light and soothing, and her hands were gentle, making his sensitive skin tingle.

B'Elanna inhaled the pleasant scent of the ointment, which consisted of a mint and herbal mixture that had excellent healing properties. It was also something of an aphrodisiac, she soon realized. She was finding it difficult to stop her hands from roaming to other areas of his anatomy. Unable to resist the enticing view before her, she bent down, raining soft kisses along his tender flesh.

Tom wriggled beneath her as she began licking.

Her warm tongue and soft lips traveled along the curve of his bare behind, ultimately investigating the dimple, then the cleft. She swirled her tongue around that sensitive region, then nipped at his firm rear end.

"B'Elanna..." he gasped. He was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm. She seemed to realize that and remedied it by pulling his shirt off over his head.

But when he tried to rise and turn around, she merely pushed him back down onto the bed. He was completely aroused, but she wouldn't allow him to touch her just yet. She was completely in control and enjoying it immensely.

He could hear the rustle of clothing, so he assumed that she was disrobing...

He was right.

Tom remained still for the moment, filled with anticipation as B'Elanna contemplated what to do with him next. It didn't take her too long to make up her mind.

Carefully, she swung her leg over so that she was sitting on top of him, straddling his lower back.

He instantly tensed. "B'Elanna, what are you doing?"

"Trying to make you feel better," she said matter-of-factly. "Relax."

_Relax?_ he thought incredulously. How the hell was he supposed to relax with her sitting on top of him like this, both of them naked? Her nearness always had a dramatic effect on him. He buried his face in his pillow, trying not to groan as she touched him.

She began kneading the taut muscles in his neck, shoulders and upper back. Gradually, he began to relax despite himself. Her strong hands continued to massage him.

But suddenly she leaned over, molding her body to his. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her arms wrap around him and her full breasts press against his bare back. She bent her head lower still, breathing in his ear and nibbling at his earlobe.

Again he tried to lift his head and arms, wrestling for control, but she pinned his arms down over his head, stretching her body along his in one fluid motion.

It was driving him to distraction. He could feel the entire length of her body against his. Could feel the moist heat emanating from the junction of her thighs where she was still straddling him. She slid against him provocatively, whispering seductively in his ear and rubbing the sole of her foot along his calf.

Then he felt her warm breath at the nape of his neck, and her teeth sinking lightly into his shoulder. He couldn't take it anymore. She knew. Sliding off of him, she scooted to his side. Inflamed, he immediately pounced on top of her, forced her thighs apart and wildly penetrated her with a piercing thrust. Not that she minded. She was more than willing to let him be on top this time.

B'Elanna slid her arms around his back, holding on tight but careful to avoid his rear end. Locking her ankles around his and squeezing her powerful thighs around his hips, urging him on...

With a deep growl, she bit him at the curve of his jaw.

Tom showed no restraint. Maintaining his steady, demanding tempo, he sank into the inviting heat of her depths again and again, stirring them both.

Rocking her hips against his, she met his relentless thrusts, feeling the pressure building within, the familiar glow spreading through her.

Groaning in pleasure, he crushed his lips to hers in a hard, demanding kiss.

A moment later she tensed, perched on the brink.

Feeling her body respond to his, he lost control, sending them both into a searing, explosive climax.

They lay there panting, hearts pounding, for several minutes. Neither said a word, content to cuddle for a while as they regained their breath. The scent of their heady lovemaking mingled with earthy mint.

"I love you," she said softly, arms encircling his waist.

He returned the sentiment by pulling her closer and dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead, making her sigh with contentment.

As he drifted off into a contented slumber, Tom mused that perhaps B'Elanna should tend to his injuries more often. She had an excellent bedside manner, and he would no doubt recover more rapidly under her care.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

A few hours later, Tom awoke in the semi-darkness to find B'Elanna securely tucked in his arms. She was awake.

"Feeling better?"

"Definitely."

"Good."

They snuggled closer together, thinking about how lucky they were to have each other.

"Did Harry repair the holodeck safeties, or should I take a look at them in the morning?" she asked at last.

"I think Harry took care of it."

"He's been working overtime lately," she mused. "Keeping to himself."

"I know."

"How's he doing? I haven't talked to him in days."

"He's doing better. It was good to see him smiling again." Tom sighed. "He took it pretty hard when the quantum slipstream drive failed."

"He still blames himself, doesn't he."

He nodded.

They were silent for a moment, thinking about everything that had happened.

Only last week they had all been celebrating the new quantum slipstream drive. Champagne toasts, confetti, parties... Everyone had been in high spirits.

Even after Tom had discovered the flaw of the .42 phase variance in the slipstream threshold by running countless warp core diagnostics and flight simulations, they had remained optimistic. A fatal mistake, as it had turned out.

If the future Harry hadn't gone back and changed history, Voyager would have been destroyed.

It wasn't all that surprising that he had taken such drastic action to save them. Although he was more eager than anyone to get home, so eager that he would have done almost anything... upon returning home he had finally realized that it meant nothing without the rest of Voyager. Not only that, but it had been his error that had destroyed Voyager. He'd suffered through survivor guilt of the worst kind.

B'Elanna could relate to that all too well, having gone through her share of survivor guilt. Sometimes it was almost unbearable.

But now Harry was suffering from a different kind of guilt. Guilt that he had been so desperate to get home that it had blinded him to everything else. He was still shaken by that knowledge and by what had almost happened.

They all were.

Finally Tom said, "I know it's selfish... but I'm glad that Harry did it. Changed the timeline, I mean."

"So am I."

"Who knows where we'd have ended up if he and Chakotay hadn't found a way to send that message to Seven's neural transceiver."

B'Elanna frowned as she thought of something. "Wait a minute... if they sent it in the future and saved Voyager, then that means their future doesn't exist anymore."

"That's right."

"And that means that future Harry never sent that message to our Harry..."

"Which means that our Harry shouldn't have received it," he finished, finally realizing what she was getting at.

"But he did."

They stared at each other, trying to puzzle that one out.

He shook his head. "Temporal paradox."

Her frown grew deeper as another thought occurred to her. "Who gets to decide how the timeline should be? Considering that Chakotay and Harry violated the Temporal Prime Directive... wouldn't a future timeship have detected the temporal revision and gone back to correct it?"

"You mean like the way Captain Braxton's timeship from the 29th century did when we went back to the 20th century?"

"Yeah. He certainly was intent on enforcing the Temporal Prime Directive."

"Hmmm... Maybe the timeships don't catch all of the temporal violations," he offered. "After all, we kept Doc's mobile holoemitter without their noticing, and that's 29th century technology."

"Does that contaminate our timeline?"

"Probably."

She closed her eyes. "I guess you're right."

"When we went back to the 20th century, we tried really hard to make sure that the timeline wouldn't be contaminated, but maybe we ended up contaminating our own."

"But it was already contaminated when Captain Braxton crash-landed on Earth in the 20th century and exposed them to 29th century technology in the first place. We got that holoemitter in the 20th century."

"But after we stopped Starling from launching the timeship, the timeline was restored, which means that Braxton never crash-landed there. Remember when we talked to him later? He said that he hadn't experienced those events."

"Then why do we remember it if it never happened?"

"Well, it had to have happened if we still have 29th century technology."

"This is really confusing. None of it makes any sense."

"It's not supposed to. Temporal mechanics is kind of counterintuitive. The possibilities are endless..."

B'Elanna sighed. "Temporal mechanics gives me a headache."

"You're not the only one," he agreed. "Let's not think about temporal paradoxes anymore, okay?"

"Okay."

They fell silent for a moment.

When Tom finally spoke again, he mused, "The Temporal Prime Directive does make sense. If it weren't enforced, the timeline would be changing all the time. I mean, I'm sure that at one point or another, everyone has done something that they regret..."

"...or just something they wish they could change about the past." She bit her lip, and he knew she was thinking about the demise of the Maquis.

He had regrets of his own. Caldik Prime.

"If you could change the past... would you?" B'Elanna wanted to know.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I guess I don't really think about it anymore because I accepted a long time ago that I _can't_ change the past."

"If Caldik Prime had never happened, you'd probably be happily climbing the Starfleet career ladder by now... in the Alpha Quadrant."

"But if Caldik Prime had never happened, I wouldn't be on Voyager... and I never would have met you."

"That's true."

"I don't know. It was a turning point in my life. Maybe these things happen for a reason..."

B'Elanna looked at him skeptically. "You're starting to sound like Chakotay."

"My point is, it wasn't the greatest thing that ever happened to me... but it also helped me become who I am now. And I kind of like who I am now."

She smiled softly. "So do I."

"The problem with changing the past is that there's no guarantee that the future will be any better after you change it. At some point you have to stop regretting the past and move on. Otherwise... there is no future. I don't want to get stuck in the past."

"Neither do I. Besides... I think my future's looking pretty good."

"Mine too."

They smiled at each other.

It was all about second chances. They had been given another chance, and for that they were both grateful.

Though they faced hazardous risks and unpredictable, perilous circumstances all the time, at the present they still had each other. And that was all they really needed.

Together, they could look forward, not backward.

The End

* * *

Author's endnote: At ST Grand Slam Convention 1999, after Robbie told the "burning buns" story, Bob Picardo held up a manila envelope, claiming that he had pictures of Captain Proton's "burnt, naked butt" to auction off to the highest bidder. Of course, it was actually the "taupe" photo of the original Voyager cast that appeared in TV Guide. :)


End file.
